


Love Rises Up (ft. Kanamin) [(Album ver.)(16/44 FLAC)(LEAK)(MEDJED MUSIC)]

by Alexilulu



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, Idols, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 13:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexilulu/pseuds/Alexilulu
Summary: Futaba and Ann don't have a ton in common, but they are of one mind on one subject: Risette.She's amazing, right?





	Love Rises Up (ft. Kanamin) [(Album ver.)(16/44 FLAC)(LEAK)(MEDJED MUSIC)]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sonikomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonikomi/gifts).



> A Secret Santa gift for [Mango!](www.twitter.com/mangorijima) Some of her favorite (and my own favorite) lesbians loving Risette...i knew the second I saw their dialogue in p5d about loving Risette I had to run with it.

“You got what?!” Futaba staggers off the bar stool and dashes over to a triumphant Ann Takamaki in the doorway of Leblanc. She’s grinning from ear to ear and hiding something behind her back.

    “I got a ‘sclusie. From Risette’s record label.” She pulls the gift bag emblazoned with Risette’s beatific smile out from behind her back and holds it above Futaba’s head, out of her reach.

    “You got a ‘SCLUSIE and you won’t share with me? Lemme see, lemme see!” Futaba wiggles her arms up above her, grabbing ineffectually at the bottom.

    “Calm down and maybe I’ll show you, jeez.” Ann looks over to Sojiro behind the bar, her grin faltering. “A little help here?”

    “Futaba, stop. What exactly is a,” Sojiro makes air quotes with his fingers, “‘sclusie?”

    Futaba huffs to a stop, panting and blowing hair out of her face. “It’s short for exclusive. Secret swag companies give to important people like Youtube influencers and stuff.” She turns back to Ann, putting on her best puppy-dog look. “Can I see? How did you even get anything from them?! I tried to get them to ship me something by scrambling a shipping barcode to make it say our address, but it never got here.”

    “See, that kind of stuff is why companies don’t put this stuff out on wider distribution, you’re just gonna steal it.” Futaba rolls her eyes at Ann, who sighs. “Okay, okay, here. Can I get some coffee, Sojiro? I’ve been on my feet all day.” Ann lowers the bag into Futaba’s waiting hands.

    “On it.” Sojiro gets to work while Futaba takes the bag over to a booth and dumps it on the table, scooting into the seat to survey her pile of treasure. Inside is an all-over print tee shirt of...Risette’s outfit from the bag front? And a bag of rainbow-painted candy, and a cell phone case with the same smile as from the bag, and… ”a USB stick? What’s on it?” Futaba picks it up, searching for any telltale markings and finding none except a very sternly worded warning about illegal misuse of or copying of the contents. Heh, Like that’s ever stopped her from copying whatever they’re guarding so hard. Half the time they don’t even encrypt it, the dopes.

    Ann clears her throat. “Risette’s new album. A month early.” Futaba’s heart stops. Ann shoves into the booth next to Futaba, taking the stick from her nerveless fingers.

Risette’s...new album. Risette has a new album. The first since she moved back to Inaba and took like, 3 years off! Futaba only got into her last year when her stuff was the only music that could penetrate that fog of malaise and self-hatred. It’s pretty hard to concentrate on being depressed with Risette’s pounding bassline knocking out all the bad thoughts and angelic voice serenading you with songs of love and living well. 

This is...huge. This is everything.

“Everything okay?” Futaba looks up from her hand when Sojiro speaks, setting down coffee for them both. Futaba takes hers and drinks so she can have any time at all to think of a way to respond that isn’t babbling incoherently.

“Totally. Thanks, Sojiro.” Ann responds for them both, smiling for Sojiro to allay his worries. Once he walks away, Ann leans in, putting her hand on Futaba’s on the table. It’s warm, unbelievably soft, and so gentle considering the tone she speaks in. “So, you get why we have to guard this, right?”

“What? Right.” Futaba nods, suddenly unsure of herself. She’d been thinking about how many upvotes she’d get on Reddit for leaking it on a burner account, after she’s done seeding it to about 50 torrent sites. Now, though, with Ann looking her in the eye and her hand so invitingly placed on her hand, all of that has been banished from her head. Only the way that Ann smiles with relief when she said ‘right’ matters in any part of her brain. Fuck hacker cred or whatever, she’s gotta protect this smile at all costs.

Wait. That’s kind of gay. Isn’t it?

She spends so long querying her own internal databases on her opinions on girls who aren’t herself (universally cute, super stylish, have it all together) that she doesn’t realize Ann is giving her a kiss on the forehead until she’s done. All Futaba is left with is just the faintest warmth on her forehead to tell of her lips presence on Futaba’s skin. Bereft of words yet again so quickly, Futaba stammers and settles for laughing far more nervously than she intended, which makes Ann giggle.

“God, you’re cute, Futaba. You wanna go listen to it?” She squeezes Futaba’s hand, and she can’t think of anything in the world she would want to do more than be in a room with Ann for the entire duration of an album. Especially a Risette album.

“Y-Yeah. Definitely.” Futaba at least has the presence of mind to continue to hold Ann’s hand the whole way to her house. Ann makes no complaints.

* * *

Sitting there on her little bed with Ann may be the happiest Futaba’s ever been. It only took a second to get the album downloaded onto Futaba’s computer (into a file passworded by gibberish, just to be sure she doesn’t get tempted to do something she shouldn’t) and immediately copied to both of their phones. So now they they sit together there, cradling their phones in their hands and staring at their screens in no small amount of awe. Well, at least it looks like Futaba’s looking there. Her gaze is instead focused on Ann’s long legs dangling off the side of the bed. She just can’t take her eyes off of them. These long planes of perfectly shorn skin, smooth as the finest cream and roughly the shade of a very pale peach have her trapped, somehow. God, this girl is so pretty. Just looking at Ann gives Futaba a funny feeling in her guts, a tension like she used to get when she was still acting openly as Medjed, a thrill that she only ever got when she was on the edge of something big. It feels like a string is tightening inside her, but her whole body is the whole string.

How the hell is this even happening? Attraction is something that happens to other people, not Futaba Sakura. Even back in the Thieves days, there was a clinical detachment between her opinions on the girls’ outfits (kinky, all of them so very kinky, even her own) and what she actually felt about the matter (apathy, or as close to apathetic as she could distinguish back then). What changed? Well...everything, technically. She’s been getting treated for depression for over a year now, for one (thanks, Akira, woulda been cool to know there was a doctor who would prescribe meds for that around the corner before you left!). Hell, she’s even about to graduate high school in March. Maybe all this normalcy like...rebooted her horny.exe subroutine.

“Here.” Ann holds out an earbud to Futaba, plugging the other into her own left ear. Shit, even her hand is pretty, nails manicured and painted a bloody crimson. A flash of Ann in her Panther suit passes over Futaba and she swears her temperature spikes 3 degrees in a millisecond.

“H-uh?”

“We can listen together. Better than listening alone, right?” Futaba looks up from Ann’s hand to her face, which feels approximately like looking at the sun, if the sun were just very hot and not bright. She’s giddy, grinning from ear to ear again. And has apparently no qualms about the state of Futaba’s room, or her bed, or Futaba herself. Sitting next to her feels like one of those right and wrong action memes she’s seen online, where a filthy guy with a bad facial expression does something stupid while the clean guy with a smiley face does what a normal person would do. So she does the normal person thing and takes the earbud, fitting it into her ear. What is this, an indirect ear-touch? Is that a thing you would post on 2ch about getting to do with your crush?

Wait, is this a crush? Does Futaba have a crush?

The opening strings of Risette’s debut song silence any doubt in her mind, her eyes locked on Ann as the lilting vocals dive straight into a song about falling in love with your best friend. Not a single male pronoun passes from Risette’s lips during the entire track. Not a single one.

Ann doesn’t take her eyes off Futaba the whole way through that first song, her grin faded into a soft, amused smile. Futaba knows she’s blushing, she feels like she’s on fire and it’s all fucking Risette’s fault! This witch cursed her friend with gay magic to make her gay and also hot, and now she’s caught in the spell too! That has to be it! Why else would Ann fall for her so easily?

“Hey.” Ann taps Futaba on the arm with her elbow. “What did you think?”

Futaba opens her mouth and closes it, trying to find any words worth saying to Ann. “I...think I’m gay.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Ann turns, then, folding her legs under her and sitting up on her knees to face Futaba. Ann’s hand slips up the side of Futaba’s head, skin like silk whispering through her hair and leaving a tingling feeling like fire in its wake. The string Futaba imagines inside herself tightens further, until her whole body feels like it’s vibrating. Nobody’s ever touched her as gently as Ann does then, her hand coming to a stop and staying there, so warm and there that Futaba can’t even believe she exists. That Ann would touch her now, in this moment, in this way. It’s more than she can bear. That’s why she meets Ann’s lips eagerly when she leans down to Futaba, the both of them uncoordinated and unpracticed and unafraid, ready to do this kissing thing a thousand times more to get it just right. Futaba loses count after the fifth. Eh, they’ll get to 1000 eventually. Making out listening to an album that is apparently just chock full of lesbian love ballads gives them plenty of motivation, at least.

“Futaba.” Ann says when they break away after one of the kisses, laughing like the tinkling of fine china when she tilts her chin up just a bit and leaves Futaba kissing her chin, tongue groping aimlessly against her skin. “Taba. are you...is this okay?”

Futaba huffs, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and rolling her eyes. “You ask that after like, a hundred kisses? Of course it’s okay.” She realizes that somewhere in there, Ann pulled herself into Futaba’s lap, her weight on Futaba’s thighs. “You are a little heavy, though.”

“Oh, sorry.” Ann pulls away, scooting off of Futaba’s lap and sitting on her knees next to her. “I uh...kinda knew what was coming. The prerelease event was like...a model casting call and then an impromptu show of the big single? Love Rises Above.”

“So what? You were gonna turn me gay with an album of gay songs?” Futaba waves a hand between them, like she’s clearing that topic away as the smoke it is. “Please, I’ve been gay a lot longer than that.” Does since the cafe and dubiously before that count? There’s gonna be a lot more interrogating of just how long she thought Ann was hot sometime later. “You said it was a casting call, then? Did you get the job?”

Ann sighs, leaning against the wall next to Futaba and sitting back in her original position, save that her head is on Futaba’s shoulder. She’s sure as hell not gonna protest a little more gentle contact. “They’re gonna call back ‘later’. I’m kinda frustrated about it, it seemed like a bunch of the girls were trying to be super fake fans sucking up to the rep about it. You should have heard the crap Mika was spewing, it was comical.”

“Ugh. Suckups. You got this. You’ve been a Risette fan forever, it totally shines through. You even do her hairstyle.”

“It’s not the same hairstyle…” Ann laughs though, flipping some of her hair up at Futaba. Futaba blows it out of her face, giggling. “You wanna make out some more? We have like, 7 more songs.”

“Definitely.” Futaba takes Ann’s hand when she sits up, pulling her down with her until they land on their sides together, legs tangled. Ann laughs, kissing Futaba’s cheek.

“You’re so pretty, Taba.”

“You’re one to talk! Miss...model! Model lady who gets paid to look pretty!” Ann laughs, kissing her gently.

“Yeah, but you don’t treat me like I’m one. It’s cute. You’re super cute.” As if Futaba couldn’t blush enough, that puts her right over her limit. “Ooh, somebody likes a little praise. Futaba, Futaba, cutest girl I’ve ever seen—” Futaba kisses Ann to silence her before she finds out if there’s a shade of red left for her to turn into.

* * *

They hang out more after that, Ann coming by Leblanc more and more often and disappearing back to Futaba’s room more often than not. Futaba even ends up cleaning it up some just to give them room to bop around the room and do uncoordinated dances together to some of their favorite songs. They even hang out outside her room, Ann holding her hand and kissing Futaba in public. It would be horrifying, if that horror wasn’t quickly overridden by how cute Ann’s little mischievous smirks would get whenever she does it. It’s like...IRL trolling. Futaba kind of loves it? Anyway, they go out and do all sorts of stuff, which is to say eat at any restaurant that Ann likes and wander around Akiba hunting for the right keyboard/PVC statue/doujinshi/etc. 

Oh, and they go to a release party for Risette’s album. Futaba actually buys a special collector’s edition with a Risette wall scroll while wearing the shirt Ann graciously gave her (it’s sized for Ann so she has to tie it off at the bottom or she looks like a toddler). It’s actually the first album she’s ever legally obtained, to Ann’s utter lack of surprise. It...was nice. There were boys and girls in pairs and alone and all of them felt like they were getting the same thing Futaba was getting from Risette’s music. A sense of belonging, a freedom to be who you want to be and still know that somebody out there cares about you.

Days turn into weeks, and still there’s no word about the casting call. Ann says that these things usually take time, but the worried look in her eyes when she says it tells Futaba that she thinks otherwise. So Futaba does her best to distract Ann whenever she can, texting her throughout the day with jokes and sweet messages she spends hours agonizing over how to word just right to not sound weird or creepy but just nice and warm. 

And they kiss more. A lot more, actually. Never more than kissing, though. Every day, Futaba swears the string in her head gets just a little bit tighter, and she doesn’t know why. Well...she knows why, but doesn’t know how to move from here to there. How do you tell the girl you love that you really do want more than just kissing and companionship without feeling like a ridiculous horny pervert? Being gay is so hard. But damn if it isn’t worth it.

* * *

Futaba squats outside Leblanc, tapping away at a rhythm game on her phone, the thumping bassline of Risette’s title track pounding in her headphones. Even with the album out now, Futaba had to code her own hacked version of the track into her favorite rhythm game app and shut off the reporting tools inside it to keep the devs from knowing someone’s playing a song that shouldn’t exist. Oh, the lengths one goes to for love. Distantly through the noise cancelling of her headphones, she can hear someone shouting about something. Whatever, people shout all the time, she’s busy. If she has anything to say about it, she’ll perfect combo Risette’s whole album before they even release it for real in the app!

“...Taba! Futaba, come on!” Futaba recoils when Ann pulls one side of her headphones off her ear, the sudden din of the city making her screw up her combo. Damn it! “Get up, get up! You gotta hear this!”

“What, what, jeez…” Futaba gripes, getting to her feet. Ann holds out her phone to Futaba, who takes it and screeches in shock at the hastily framed selfie of Ann and Rise Kujikawa making a heart at the camera. “YOU MET HER?!”

“Even better! I got the job, I’m gonna be on the cover of her Uniqlo collaboration line coming out this winter!” Ann can’t contain how excited she is, laughing giddily. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I said it, holy shit. Holy SHIT, I’M GONNA WORK WITH RISETTE!”

“YOU GOT THE JOB!” Futaba shrieks with delight, jumping into Ann’s arms and showering her with kisses. Ann laughs, basking in Futaba’s attention and returning the few kisses that land on her lips.

“Now, what the hell is...oh.” Sojiro’s voice from behind Futaba puts a quick end to the festivities, though. Futaba wiggles out of Ann’s grasp and back down to the ground, holding up her hands in front of her.

“I can explain, I was just—”

“Kissing young miss Takamaki? I know, dear.” Sojiro folds his arms. “Now, I’m happy for you, Ann, so congratulations. I am trying to run a business here, though. Maybe you two can shout about Risette back in Futaba’s room without scaring off my customers with your carrying on?”

“Right.” Futaba nods, unbelievably thankful. Abruptly, she realizes that there are plenty of bystanders in the streets watching them, who presumably just watched them make out in public. Okay, maybe he’s got a point.

“Great. Next time you come by is on the house, Ann.” Sojiro gives her a wink, and Ann laughs nervously, brushing a pigtail back into place. “You two go have fun now, but try to keep it PG-13, okay?”

“Oh my god, Sojiro!” Futaba pushes him (or tries, since it doesn’t move him) and tries to shoo him back into the cafe. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Sojiro laughs, letting her push him back inside. “C’mon, I never get a chance to do dad stuff. Okay, okay…” Futaba shuts the door behind him with a huff, leaning against the glass.

“Jeez. Dads are ridiculous.”

“I thought it was cute.” Ann smiles, taking Futaba by the hand and leading her out into the street, already heading for Futaba’s house. “There’s a big opening event for when the line goes out for sale, it’s gonna have all the models and designers and stuff talking about the collab for media, showing off. I’m supposed to be there for work, but...I get a plus one, too.” Ann trails off, leaving the question unsaid. Well, Futaba’s smart enough to put two and two together.

“That’s so cool? Of course I wanna go with you!”

“Oh, good.” Ann sighs with relief, laughing to herself. “I was just...well, you know. I think we’re gonna need to figure out something else to dress you in, though.”

“What’s wrong with this? I look great!” Futaba gestures at her outfit, tiny bike shorts and a gigantic jacket (her only concession to the approaching cold weather) over a tank top.

“Babe, I love you so much, but you look like somebody had 10 seconds and a box of thrift store castoffs to dress you with.” Ann can barely finish her sentence before she dissolves into giggles, covering her mouth with her free hand.

“Rude! It’s not like I have any experience with this stuff!”

“I know, I know. I’ve got some ideas for stuff you would love, though...Maybe next time I’ll bring some stuff by?”

“Okay, I guess.” Futaba shrugs.

* * *

Ann drops a massive suitcase next to Futaba’s bed with a resounding thump. “Alright babe, let’s play dress-up!”

Futaba spins in her chair, jaw agape. “...What?”

“I said I’d bring some stuff by yesterday! I kinda just grabbed everything I thought would look cute on you, but once I’ve got your measurements I can get whatever you like altered to fit.”

“I thought you meant like, going to Junes and picking out a new outfit!” Futaba curls her legs up into the chair, hugging her knees to her chest. “I haven’t even showered yet today.”

“It’s fine, it’ll get washed after I take it to the shop.” Ann sits down on the bed, holding out both of her hands and wiggling her fingers at Futaba. “Come here, babe…”

“Okay, okay…” Futaba unfolds herself out of her chair, stretching and groaning after a long session of coding. Sitting down in her girlfriend’s lap, Ann kisses her gently.

“I know I’m asking a lot, so you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna. I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not comfortable with. And it’s not like I’m embarrassed to be seen with you, either, I just—”

“Ann, come on.” Futaba shushes her, smiling. “You wanna make a good impression on Risette, I get it. It’s fine, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Are you okay with me taking your measurements? It’ll make my life a lot easier, and you won’t have to go get pinned in place by the seamstress either.”

“I guess. What, you just need my waist and hips and stuff, right?”

“Well, more than that, for your arms and leg circumferences and inseam, too. A properly fitted piece of clothing fits you like a glove. It’s boring, mostly.” She bites her lip. “I do need you to get down to your underwear for the big 3, though.”

“Oh.” Futaba blushes, both because the look of concern on Ann’s face is super cute, but also...getting naked in front of your girlfriend is kind of a big step when they’ve been dating for like...a month, tops? Oh...but she looks so excited about it. Shit. Well...

“Okay!” Futaba says with no small amount of false cheer, stomping down her fear. Ann’s not gonna do anything bad. It’ll be fine! Besides, it’s just boobs and butt. “Let’s go. Do I need to, like...do anything?”

“No, no, just sit still for me, okay?” Ann produces a cloth measuring tape from her bag. For just a moment, Futaba swears that she sees Ann like she used to be in Mementos as the long tape unrolls from her hand, whip in hand and ready to deliver punishment to a Shadow. She hasn’t even taken any clothes off and already Futaba feels a chill run down her spine. “You okay?” Ann raises an eyebrow at Futaba.

“I’m fine!” Futaba holds her arm out for Ann to do whatever she needs to. Ann gets to work, wrapping the cloth tape around Futaba’s bicep and tapping a note on her phone next to her leg, then repeating the process on her forearm. Next comes the length of her arm, Ann pressing the cold metal end of the tape to her wrist and running the tape up her whole arm. All throughout this Ann’s hands are on her, holding her arm steady and tracing the path of the tape as it moves.

It’s...hard to express what it feels like, for Futaba. She’s spent so long without any touch at all that just this much has her breathing more noticeably just to keep calm. It’s all she can focus on that isn’t Ann’s intense look focused on her, or the feel of her skin on Futaba’s own, touching unbearably sensitive places she never even knew could be sensitive. Who thinks about how it would feel to have someone touch your armpit until it’s happening and feels so much better than you ever expected it to? It’s all so much, and then it’s done and Ann is kissing her on the cheek. Damn it, that’s not good enough anymore! Futaba twists her head and turns the peck into a real kiss, her tongue questing for something that feels as good as all of that had to her. After a moment of hesitation Ann seems eager to please, her hands slipping under Futaba’s shirt and caressing up her stomach. Shit, Futaba feels so good. The string in her head winds tighter, like a bow pulled taut by Ann’s touch, until Ann abruptly breaks off the kiss with a grunt, pulling both hands to herself and away from Futaba. Every fiber of Futaba’s being burns with the loss of Ann’s touch, that feeling she has craved for longer than she can express taken away in an instant.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have—”Ann stammers, her face flushed and panting for breath.

Futaba groans in frustration, grabbing Ann’s hand by the wrist and shoving it back under her shirt against her abdomen. “Don’t stop, damn it! You were just getting to the good part!” She sighs with relief when Ann’s hand relaxes against her, the worry in her eyes relaxing into happy reverence.

“Oh. Okay... Hey, I got an idea.” Ann leans forward, kissing Futaba’s neck again and again, making her heart flutter in her chest with every touch.

“W-what’s the idea?”

“I still wanna get your measurements, but if you’re okay doing...more stuff, we can make it a game. I take your measurements and touch you however I want, and if you make it through the whole thing without saying a word then you get a special surprise reward.”

Futaba groans when Ann punctuates her offer with a nip of teeth against her neck. “Okay. Ok ok ok, what do I do?”

“Stand up and take off your shirt.” Ann gives her one last kiss before letting Futaba get up, sucking her bottom lip for just long enough to make Futaba want to stay in her lap. Nevertheless, Futaba breaks the kiss with no small amount of trepidation, tugging her shirt over her head and doing her best not to shiver at the sudden chill against her skin. “Oh, baby, do you not wear a bra?” Ann smiles, standing up and dragging a finger down Futaba’s sternum. “Don’t answer that. I still wanna have my fun, let’s not ruin it yet.”

Ann doesn’t even bother to grab the tape from its resting place on the bed, walking behind her and tracing meandering, meaningless patterns on the skin of Futaba’s back. The cold is instantly forgotten when a hand sweeps up Futaba’s flank under her arm and stops just short of her breast, Ann’s hand right over her heart. Surely she can tell how hard it beats against its cage, running well past specified limits from just this limited amount of contact. Futaba freezes when she feels breath on her ear, hot and light.

“I’ve thought a lot about this, you know,” Ann whispers into her ear. “Kissing you. More than that, actually. Touching you. Seeing you, getting to feel every bit of you.” Futaba whimpers when Ann’s hand slides just a little bit further up, a fingertip touching her already-hard nipple. “Ah ah ah. You can tell me how good it feels after, okay?” Ann flicks a finger up past Futaba’s nipple and back down again, and Futaba can feel her grin behind her from the way her jaw moves against her shoulder. Futaba takes a deep breath when Ann retreats, walking past her and retrieving the measuring tape. When Ann returns, Futaba doesn’t even notice the cold of the metal tip against her sternum, all of her focus directed at Ann’s finger tracing the path of the measuring tape around her ribs. It shifts again, falling to her waist and tightening as she takes that measurement.

“You’re doing so good.” The tape slackens for a moment. “Now bend over, I have to get your cup size.” Ann presses herself against Futaba’s back, forcing her to bend at the waist until she’s nearly touching her own toes just to stay upright. The tape shifts until it crosses over her breasts, and Ann’s hands are so close to them now that Futaba tries to press herself further down into them, just for that little bit of stimulation, only for Ann’s hands to withdraw further. “Ah ah. No moving when I’m measuring, okay?” Futaba nods, squeezing her thighs together. “Good girl.” When she’s done, Ann lets the cloth tape drop to the floor, seizing both of Futaba’s breasts in her hands. “We’re almost done, but the hardest stuff is coming. Can you promise to be a good girl for me? I’m so looking forward to giving you your prize, I’d be so sad if you didn’t make it…” Ann rolls both Futaba’s nipples between her fingers, giggling with delight when Futaba nods. Its taking all of her concentration to not beg Ann for more, so much more. But she’s almost there. Almost... “That’s my girl. Just a little bit longer, and then you’ll get to feel so good.” Ever so slowly, Ann pulls Futaba back upright, never once leaving her position pressed to her back. Even with how hot her whole body feels, Ann’s presence is even warmer, somehow, a bonfire at her back.

The bonfire recedes, Ann’s hands vanishing from her chest as she walks back around to Futaba’s front. With a smile, she kneels in front of Futaba, running a hand up Futaba’s calf. That hand slips higher, following the inside of Futaba’s thigh until it finds the meatiest part. And then it moves up, further, so tantalizingly close to that most sensitive of places, only to pull away at the last second and move to the waistband of her shorts. “We’ll have to get rid of these, first.” Popping the button fly open with a snap, Ann pulls Futaba’s shorts off and down. It’s already super obvious how much Futaba was enjoying this, obviously, but Ann staring straight at the damp spot she’s made in her panties with her arousal is...a lot. That string inside her thrums like a harp, a single high note of need played endlessly in her head. “Oh, baby…I’ve been teasing you so badly, haven’t I? Just a little bit more, I promise.” Ann leans in, kissing high up on Futaba’s thigh. If she didn’t want that surprise finish so badly, she’d have protested her lack of a shower, but...god, does she want whatever Ann will give her more than anything else in the world. Embarrassment and need are two different things, and only one of them is on her mind right now.

Ann keeps her word, lingering only for the most scant moments when she measures Futaba’s thighs, leaning her face against one for long enough that Futaba very nearly breaks then and there. But she doesn’t, Ann’s face recedes, and she takes Futaba’s hip measurement and stands. Without a word, she bends down to kiss Futaba more passionately than they ever have before, Ann’s hand on her jaw tilting her head up to a better angle. When she releases Futaba, her hands don’t leave her chin. “You’re so good, Futaba, so patient. Thank you for putting up with me.” Futaba stares up at Ann, her jaw firmly locked shut but trembling nevertheless. She’s come this far, and the game can’t be over yet, right? There’s always a final boss before you get the payoff, and that was too easy, there’s gotta be more coming! “You can talk now, babe. Do you want your prize?”

Or maybe it is that easy. Maybe Ann wants this as bad as she does, and this isn’t a test or a challenge, just a demonstration of love. Weird, but...god, it just makes it all the hotter. “Please.” Futaba says, shifting uneasily on her feet. She’s so ready, or as ready as she’ll ever get. Ann takes her by the hand, twirling her in place until their positions have shifted, Futaba’s back to the bed and Ann in the center of the room. She reaches down, hooking a hand under the band of Futaba’s panties.

“Ready?” Ann smiles when Futaba nods, sliding back down to her knees and taking Futaba’s panties down her legs with her. Futaba does shiver this time, more out of anticipation than any true chill. Ann doesn’t look away or up to Futaba at all, her eyes fixed on the dense nest of pubes above her pussy. “Brown, huh.” Ann grins like she just won 1000 yen.

“S-stop…Jeez.” Futaba whines, taking a shuddering breath. Bad enough she’s doing all this without a shower, now she’s making cracks about hair color? Next time, she’s gonna get Ann good about her pubic h— Futaba’s train of thought crashes like a buggy program when Ann parts her lips with two fingers, one tracing the edge of her labia. Shit, that feels good. Better than everything before it by a hundred times. It’s not like it’s her first time touching it, but someone else touching it is a whole different world, especially after so much teasing.

“Such a pretty color.” Ann leans closer, her finger slipping inside and probing gently upwards and withdrawing quickly before Futaba has time to do much more than groan low in her throat. She gives Futaba a quick glance while licking her finger clean, murmuring appreciatively.

“Ann…”

“Okay, okay. No more teasing.” Without much more ado Ann pulls Futaba just the little bit more forward to pull her onto Ann’s mouth. Immediately, lips and tongue meet her pussy in a dizzying sensation that feels like Ann’s winding her tighter and tighter with every flicker of movement. Futaba groans louder when Ann’s tongue moves just right, rocking forward on the balls of her feet and putting just a bit of her weight on Ann’s face providing an unbelievably pleasing sensation all on its own. Ann doesn’t let up even with the shift, her hand cupping the side of Futaba’s ass and pulling her further against her, her tongue searching for the perfect spot. And just like that, Futaba flinches and her knees nearly buckle out from under her when Ann swipes right past the perfect spot, one she has never felt so strongly before. And then Ann hits it again, and again, and again, and it’s all Futaba can do to stay on her feet, holding onto Ann’s head for something resembling balance. Fuck, Ann looks right up at her and her eyes are crinkled up like she’s smiling but she just keeps doing it, again and again and again, her tongue swirling around it like a circling shark that’s smelled blood in the water.

“Ann, Ann, Ann, fuck, you’re ri— hnnnngh, fuck, ahhhh, damn it, you’re gonna…” Futaba sighs, shuddering when Ann makes another pass and pulls back, wiping some of Futaba’s fluids from her mouth.

“Ooh, you’re too much fun, Futaba.” She licks her hand clean again, grinning. “You make me wanna play with my food, and I’m already savoring it enough as it is.”

Futaba pants without words, staring down at Ann and willing her to understand how badly she wants to finish right now, the aching need that feels like she’s gonna snap in half if she doesn’t do it soon. Ann nods (or at least, Futaba thinks she does) and nuzzles back into Futaba’s crotch, her tongue twisting up and around Futaba’s clit. Now that makes her weak-kneed for a split second, the only thing keeping her aloft her determination to come all over Ann’s face. She tenses for another flick and is rewarded in kind, moaning through gritted teeth. Her grip on Ann’s scalp tightens until Ann makes a sound against her pussy, the low vibration of a moan resonating with that oh-so-tight feeling in every bit of her body. Ann pushes harder against her, returning to her previous favorite spot and crossing it again and again with her tongue. Futaba gives up on controlling herself, grinding herself against Ann’s jaw even as she continues to strike that most sensitive place until the string in Futaba’s head snaps like a gunshot and she comes, her legs giving out under her and toppling to the bed. She writhes in place, repeating Ann’s name until it becomes a meaningless noise of grunting and grinding teeth in her head.

“Oh, Taba…” Ann lays down next to her as she twists, brushing her hair out of her face. “I really did mean it when I said you’re so pretty. Especially now.” They stay there until Futaba finally regains enough processing power to make limbs.exe boot up.

“Ugh...I feel like I got hit by a truck. A mean truck who picks on her girlfriend.” Futaba groans, pulling herself the rest of the way onto the bed, throwing her blanket over her head. “I’m tired now, you wore me out!”

“C’mon, you said you’d try on clothes, too…” Ann slips her hands under the blanket, pulling Futaba up by the armpits until at least her head is visible. “Or do you want me to model for you?”

“Ooh, model for me, model for me!” Futaba claps, some of her energy recovered by the prospect of seeing Ann take off and put on her clothes so many times. “Make it like a, cute stripper thing?”

“It’s called a striptease, babe.” She leans down, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Well, you did get your special reward already, but...why not?” Ann gets to her feet, stripping off her jacket and hoodie and abandoning them on the foot of the bed. “Play me some music?” Futaba digs in the bed for a moment until she produces her phone, hitting play on Risette’s album and claps along to the beat while Ann starts unbuttoning her school uniform.

* * *

The party is wild, the whole place wall to wall hot people mingling and laughing. Ann leads Futaba around the room, greeting her stylist and makeup gurus and showing Futaba off to them both, much to her surprise. Ann’s made no bones about how much she likes Futaba, but to talk her up so much to these new, unfamiliar people feels like a surprise nevertheless. And finally, they grab some finger foods and go looking for a table, when...

“Ann, there you are!” An unfamiliar voice calls out from the crowd in front of Ann and Futaba. Ann has just enough presence of mind to pass her plate into Futaba’s hand before the shout is followed by a short brunette careening out of the crowd and directly into Ann’s arms, hugging her tightly. “Oh, I’m so glad you got to make it, I was so worried you wouldn’t!”

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Ms. Kujikawa!” Ann laughs, ruffling Rise Kujikawa’s hair? She’s not even 15cm taller than Futaba, even in heels! Risette releases Ann with a laugh, holding her hand like it’s the most precious thing in the room. “Here, you should meet my girlfriend.” Futaba puffs herself up at Ann mentioning of ‘girlfriend’, standing as tall as she can (you’d be surprised what platform shoes can do for you there). “Rise, this is Futaba Sakura. She’s just finishing her last year in high school.” Futaba raises the plates in lieu of a wave, only to have to pass them to Ann when Rise dives under them for a hug too.

“Ooh, the elusive Futaba!” Rise gushes, giggling and releasing her. “Ann’s been so cagey about you, I thought you two might be long distance, but I’m so glad to meet you too!”

“Cagey?” Futaba raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, for months now she’s been gushing about how much she loves you! Her pretty little secret, I was calling her. I didn’t even learn your name until 2 weeks ago.” Rise laughs. “You know, she wasn’t kidding though, you really are cute.”

“Thank you…?” Futaba looks over to Ann, who smiles nervously and laughs in that supremely false way that she always does when she knows she’s busted.

Rise sighs. “It’s too bad Nao couldn’t make it, I was really looking forward to showing them off, too. Well, I gotta get back to the party. So many people to thank for their work. Ann, thank you so much for your hard work, again! It was great to meet you, Futaba!” Rise retreats with a wave, Futaba still staring daggers at Ann.

“Okay, hang on, let’s talk about this. I can explain!” Ann holds the plates up between them to cover her face. She’s blushing!

“‘Pretty little secret’?” Futaba says, deadpan.

“I love you?” Ann tries experimentally.

Futaba sighs. “...I love you too. Okay, I can’t stay mad. Months, though?”

“She’s been working with all the models to get things just right! The final cut was when Rise gave me the ‘sclusie. I...uh, I might have mentioned you were a fan.” Ann holds out Futaba’s plate, and she takes it back with a groan.

“You’re such a dork. You had a crush on me for months, and you told Risette about it before you told me?”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“That’s months and months of kisses we’ve missed out on, you know. We could be way closer to 1000 by now, so you better work hard. I expect at least...triple the kisses, got it?”

“Happy to oblige, babe.” They finally find a table, setting down their plates. Ann dips down, kissing Futaba with a smile. “See, one more down. We’ll be there before you know it.” Futaba pulls Ann back down for another, determined to get that number down as fast as she can.


End file.
